Chapter 117: Slum (3)
Chapter 117: Slum (3)
After finishing off the last of the skewers I’d bought, I led my disciples on a leisurely stroll through the heart of the market.
The residents stared at us, seemingly fascinated by the sight of a Hero walking the streets so boldly, but they soon lost interest and returned to their business.
In the old days, they wouldn't have cared whether a Hero showed up or someone was coughing up blood from a stab wound, but there was a specific reason for their attention now.
“What are they selling over there? Ice? Why is ice 250,000 won?”
“Si-hyun, calm down… Senior? That’s not a real monster corpse, right? It’s a replica, isn’t it?”
It was only natural for people to stare when newcomers were making such a fuss while brandishing weapons.
“Want me to tell you?”
Finding their behavior somewhat endearing, I turned back with a smile.
Everyone has a phase like that. Myself included.
Besides, if they stay here long enough, they’ll find out eventually, whether they want to or not.
“Please tell us!”
“…Actually, I think I’m better off not knowing.”
Perhaps sensing the thick layer of mischief in my voice, my disciples' reactions were polar opposites.
“The ice is… well, think of it as slang. It’s a certain something. Si-hyun, don’t you dare buy it, even out of curiosity.”
“Yes, Master!”
She’s still as obedient as ever.
“And you asked about the monster?”
“You don’t have to tell me…”
Oh, I’m definitely telling you.
“It is a real monster corpse. There’s a belief that eating things imbued with Otherworldly Power makes you stronger.”
It’s the same everywhere, whether here or elsewhere.
“…That’s barbaric. Instead of getting stronger, they’ll just catch some disease.”
Han A-bin, with her medical background, was quick to criticize.
She was mostly right. They’d be lucky if their bodies didn't just start rotting away.
However, A-bin…
“There’s a high probability of ruining your body, but it does technically grant power. Of course, simply training your techniques is far more stable and overwhelmingly more efficient.”
There’s no way you can get strong just by eating. What matters is how you handle the power you possess.
Perhaps my answer sounded strange to her.
“…How do you know that?” Han A-bin asked.
“Who knows?”
I gave her a deliberately meaningful smile and turned away, letting her imagination run wild.
While one of them fell into silent thought and the other continued her noisy chatter, we rounded a corner and arrived at the Currency Exchange.
One look was enough to tell that the Currency Exchange was an important building.
Its clean walls and the flawless black paint on its metal door stood in stark contrast to the surrounding buildings, which were so caked in grease that it was hard to tell their original color.
Next to the sturdy door, a metal sign with the words ‘Currency Exchange’ engraved into it gleamed under the light.
The door didn't budge with a light push, so I gave it a slight tug. It began to open with an exaggerated, rusty screech.
“…The exterior looks clean, but I guess they didn't think to grease the door.”
Startled by the sudden screeching noise, the two disciples frowned in annoyance.
My thoughts were a bit different, though.
“It’s likely intentional.”
“Pardon?”
“That way, they know exactly when someone is coming. It’s a classic method.”
Making the door pull-to-open and that loud noise—it was all calculated.
As the door opened, an intense light spilled out from inside. It was bright enough to momentarily blind anyone whose eyes had grown accustomed to the dimness of the marketplace.
Truly, a series of classic methods. I’d learned about these techniques in the past, so I knew them in theory, but this was the first time I’d experienced someone layering them so textbook-perfectly.
It wasn't quite this extreme in the old days.
Inside the exchange sat a man behind security bars, his face obscured by the heavy backlighting.
“…150/300.”
He bluntly spat out a simple set of numbers.
While the two disciples were squinting and groaning at the blinding light, I kept my eyes wide and stepped forward.
“Starting off with a rip-off? Do we look like tourists to you?”
“…130/270.”
The man showed no reaction to my words and simply recited another set of numbers.
“Look, don't give me that nonsense. I came here knowing the rates, so let’s just exchange honestly, alright?”
I swear, why do the people in the back alleys love overcharging so much? I’ve never seen a deal go through on the first try.
“120/235.”
For the first time, a sense of firm resolve entered the man’s voice, as if to say he wouldn't go any lower.
It was slightly different from the market price I’d heard at the shop, but the exchange rate was roughly the same.
I’d heard 115 for coins and 240 for bills, so this was actually a better deal.
“Exchange it all.”
I pulled a wad of bills from the bag at my waist and tossed it onto the narrow counter.
“…No exchanging back to external currency.”
“I know, so just do it.”
It wasn't my money anyway; it was the mission expenses I’d been given, so I didn't care.
We didn't know when we’d find the person we were looking for, and you can never have too much money.
“High denominations first. Or an even split.”
“Give it to me in an even split.”
I relayed my requirements to the man, who remained stoic. He began to count the bills silently.
Excruciatingly slowly.
One by one. One by one.
“Hurry it up. If you try to scam me, I’m just going to come back and flip this place upside down anyway.”
“….”
Despite my threat, the man only increased his speed slightly, maintaining his rigid posture.
Several minutes passed.
After what felt like a long time, the man laid out several metal rods.
“Black is 100,000. And…”
“White is 1,000? I know, just hand them over.”
The metal rods didn't even seem to have a proper standard; they were clearly of different lengths and had bumpy textures. I swept them into the plastic bag he provided.
“We’re done here, right? Then I’m leaving.”
“Wait.”
As I finished my business and prepared to leave the exchange, the man stopped me.
“What? Something else?”
To prevent any trouble from starting, I maintained my aggressive tone and glared at him.
I had no desire to deal with anything tedious.
Then, the man said something completely unexpected.
“That bag is 1,000 won.”
“….”
The statement was so absurd that I just stared at him, mouth agape.
“It’s 1,000 won.”
But the man maintained his stance, simply holding out his hand.
“…Fine, take it.”
I pulled a White Rod from the bag and tossed it at him.
“Have a good trade.”
“Shut it.”
Venting the irritation that came from being caught off guard at the very end, I stepped out of the Currency Exchange.
Screeeech.
As the disciples followed me out, the door tilted with the same eerie metallic groan as when it opened.
Click.
Then it closed with a sound that was unexpectedly quiet compared to the screech.
“You were quite aggressive, Senior.”
“I liked that side of you too, Master!”
Since there was no one around, Baek Si-hyun was swinging her hammer around wildly.
“You have to be firm with that sort of crowd to get things moving quickly.”
Otherwise, they’ll look down on you.
It might be a prejudice, but in my experience, this is the simplest way.
“So you’re saying we have to act like thugs? I learned something new today!”
I couldn't tell if that was a compliment or an insult.
“Whew… let’s find a place to stay.”
I let out a sigh and finally said the words my disciple had been longing to hear.
“Are we finally resting…?”
“I’m fine with walking around a bit more.”
We certainly have one energetic idiot here.
“Si-hyun, you just took a nap earlier… Senior, let’s find a place quickly.”
“Right.”
Si-hyun might talk like that, but fatigue was likely piling up inside her without her realizing it. The problem was finding a decent place to stay…
If we picked the wrong place, there was a high chance our money would be gone by the time we woke up.
Physical safety wasn't much of a concern with Si-hyun around, though.
I’d planned to find an informant first because asking merchants about lodging often meant they were in on a scam, but finding one was going to take a bit more time.
Now then. What should I do…?
Just as I was about to move while pondering my options.
“Hey, ladies.”
A voice came from behind us.
It was the slightly raspy voice of a young boy, sounding as if his throat was parched.
I knew someone was approaching, but I didn't expect them to strike up a conversation so boldly.
“I overheard. You’re looking for a place to stay, right?”
Despite wearing rags, the boy’s face was clean, suggesting he cared about hygiene.
“And if we are?”
I played along for now, scrutinizing every detail of the boy.
“Well, I know a good place…”
Loss of the first joint on the right index finger.
Healthy complexion.
A scar on the forehead hidden by hair.
Pupils that didn't quite align with his gaze.
Something tucked into his waistband—likely food.
Slightly pointed ears.
“Then lead the way.”
I spoke up to keep the conversation going.
“Then follow m—”
The moment the boy tried to step beside me.
“Hands off.”
I immediately grabbed the boy’s hand.
His right hand was already inside the plastic bag.
As expected, a pickpocket.
He didn't seem to intend to take the whole bag, but rather aimed to swipe a few rods.
Few people remember exactly how much change they have down to the last cent, so the chance of getting caught was low. At that speed, he would have cleared me out in the blink of an eye—a decent choice.
Small and steady rather than one big score. Quite an unusual fellow.
“….”
The boy’s expression shifted the moment his hand was caught, and he tried to bolt, but I wasn't about to let him go.
“Is he a pickpocket?!”
“Huh? A pickpocket?”
The two disciples finally noticed the commotion, each reacting differently.
Han A-bin looked shocked, while Baek Si-hyun was late to the party and spouting nonsense.
“Yeah, a pickpocket. See this missing finger joint? It was probably cut off after he got caught before.”
I dragged the boy over by his captured right hand and waved it in front of my disciples' eyes.
“Tsk. Talk about bad luck. You’re one of us, aren't you?”
The pickpocket wiped the friendly look off his face and replaced it with a sour smirk.
“I’m not your kind, but I know your kind well.”
After all, I’m something of an expert when it comes to the art of stealing.
“So, what are you gonna do? Break my arm or something?”
The boy seemed to have been through this before, showing a resigned attitude.
Then again, seeing as he was pickpocketing, he probably didn't have any backing, so this wasn't his first or second time getting caught.
“Do you belong to an organization?”
“If I did, would I be doing this?”
“Family?”
“….”
The boy’s face stiffened slightly.
In that case…
“Or is it a group? How many? Is it made up of kids?”
Finally, the boy’s face went completely rigid.
“…Seriously, talk about rotten luck. Can’t you just end it with me? Big sis?”
He was definitely imagining something terrible.
Based on this reaction, it was likely a group of orphans.
Perfect.
“I know what you’re imagining, but I have no interest in the organs of kids who haven't even finished growing.”
I gave his right hand a shove, tossing the boy against a wall.
“Gah.”
He let out a sharp cry of pain as he hit The Wall and slid to the ground.
I pulled some rods from my bag and tossed them onto him.
“That’s 200,000.”
Two black rods. They landed on top of the fallen boy.
“Lead us to your place. We’ll use it as our lodging. That’s the advance payment.”
Doubt began to cloud the boy’s face—an emotion strong enough to override even the pain.
“What… is this?”
“If it’s not enough, I’ll give you another one. I’m saying I’ll use your place as a lodging, any complaints?”
A civilian’s home is often safer than some halfway decent inn.
It was a requisition.
“…Who the hell are you people?”
“None of your business. You have exactly two choices.”
I grabbed the joints of the fallen boy’s hands and continued.
“Take this and quietly provide your home as lodging.”
I applied a bit of pressure.
A tiny crack echoed as the joint began to strain.
It was a small sound, but to the person whose body it was coming from, it would sound like thunder.
“Or have both your arms broken as compensation for the pickpocketing attempt. Simple, right?”
“…For someone who looks like that, you’re a real thug.”
An appropriate description.
“So, what’s it going to be?”
I released the pressure on his hands, making it easier for him to choose.
“…Follow me.”
The boy brushed off my hands and started walking ahead. He moved at a brisk pace, as if hoping we’d lose sight of him.
To crush that hope, I moved my feet and stuck close to his back. Then, I whispered right into his ear.
“If you’re thinking of leading us to other robbers or your boss, don't.”
I blew a warm breath against his ear.
“Because I can’t guarantee what will happen if you do.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
“Just be a good boy. Got it?”
Feeling him tremble, I removed my hand and stepped back.
Then, I said one last thing.
“Oh, and one more thing. Stop calling me 'big sis.' I’m a man.”